FIC: The Architect (1/?)
Fic: The Architect
Pairing: Finn Hudson/Santana Lopez
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2121
Disclaimer: I do not own Finn nor Santana.
Author's Note: Fulfilling a prompt for the Santana Lopez Drabble Meme. Unbeta'ed so mistakes in this are mine.
It kind of sickens her that she's just got her body draped on top of his on the little couch on her balcony and they're not even trying to fuck and she doesn't even want to. If this were a year earlier, she would have been testing their luck by pushing herself up onto the balcony edge and spreading her legs to show him the panties she's not wearing under her skirt and he would have been on his knees in two seconds, showing her how much he loves it when she doesn't wear any panties. And he really loves it a lot. But no, she's just here on top of him, listening to the sound of his breathing and letting out one of those happy, content sighs she always heard other people give but never thought she would ever experience first hand. He's changed a lot of things for her since they ran into that random bar in Manhattan about a year ago. She doesn't regret any of it (well, maybe she regrets the pulled hamstring from realizing that she isn't quite as flexible anymore as she was in her Cheerios days), but she'll never tell him that.
They don't talk about what they are, because he knows it scares her and because she knows he's smart enough to know that she's not fucking anyone else. They just are and maybe that's what she likes the most. She doesn't feel like she has to try with him. She can tell him to fuck off and get out of her bed any time she wants, and whether or not he's at fault, he always comes crawling back to apologize and spends a few hours letting his tongue make it up to her. By the same token, something inside her breaks every time he pouts or he pulls that look that makes her feel like she's kicked a puppy. She doesn't even like dogs, and yet she feels guilty every damned time.
Yes, they're totally whipped for each other, but she kind of likes that. Not that she'll ever say it out loud.
Something else she'll never say out loud is that when she thinks about her future, he's always the main component. She may or may not have rejected this job offer that paid her a little bit more money because it meant working more hours and seeing him less. She may or may not have a savings account, which starts with w and ends in edding set up. Not that she thinks he's gonna ask, but if he does, she may or may not have some money set aside so that she can splurge on her dress and a nice set of lingerie for their honeymoon. She may or may not have dipped into that fund already to buy some sexy lingerie for him on more than one occasion. Maybe.
It used to bother her that she found comfort in the strangest things, like the way he tucks her hair behind her ear whenever they get quiet, or the way he rubs her shoulder whenever a car honks (which happens an awful lot in this part of town), but now, she knows that that is just part of loving someone. And she loves him a lot, even if she rarely says it. "I love you," he whispers, right on cue, as if to make her feel guilty.
"I know," she replies, barely loud enough for him to hear, like they're sharing some kind of secret. She sighs happily, again, and she can feel him grinning against her hair. It's stupid how fucking good that makes her feel, that just knowing she's happy makes him happy.
"This place is too small for us," he says, his voice distant, like he's not really aware that he's talking.
"Every place is too small for you, remember? You're a giant," she reminds him, chuckling as she pokes him gently in the ribs.
"But like a hot giant, right?" he inquires, arching an eyebrow as he looks down at her.
"Eh, an adequate giant. You're not terrible to look at or anything," she replies, keeping her face straight even though she's dying to laugh. He shifts under her and his face falls and she really doesn't understand how he thinks she's being serious right now, even if her face is set like this is not a joke. He goes silent and looks down at the traffic and she lets out a resigned sigh. Damn it. "For fuck's sake, I was just joking, you dumbass."
"I know," he grins, and she smacks him in the bicep, narrowing her eyes at him in a way that is not joking. "I guess four years at NYU really did pay off."
"Shut up," she growls, angry at herself that she fell for that. He laughs and strokes her back in that place that makes her whimper like a baby and Christ, why is he so good at calming her down? He should not know her this well. It scares her that he does, and it annoys her that she's obviously let him in that far that he knows exactly where his fingers should be to calm her down. Still, though, she has to admit, it is nice that he remembers this and does it automatically. Maybe deep down, she kind of likes how well he knows her.
They lay there in silence for a while, because he whispers again. "I was being serious," he informs her, and he's not looking at her, so she knows he means it. "This place is too small for us."
"Well, considering that this is my ap-"
"Maybe I didn't make myself clear," he interjects, and for some reason, it strikes her momentarily how he really is a man now. High school Finn Hudson would never have dared cut her off mid-sentence. Surprisingly, it makes her willing to hear him out. She presses her lips together as a sign that she's going to let him continue. "I'm saying I want us to find a place that's big enough. You know, like… for both of us. Like a house or something."
"You… want us to move in together?" she asks, which is an idiot question because of course that is what he is trying to say. He shifts under her again, but it's not an act this time. He knows her well enough to know that when her response to anything is a question, it usually means they're going to get into a fight.
"We don't have to or anything. I just thought since we're, you know, and we've been that way for a while, it might be nice for us to… avoid the burden of city traffic and the subway system and…" he rambles for the next five minutes and he is begging her with his eyes to stop him the entire time because she knows that once he opens his mouth and starts rambling nervously, he has an inability to stop unless she physically covers his mouth with her hand… or her face, if she's already naked…
"Okay," she says, leaning up to kiss him. After she's had enough of watching him torture himself. She tuned him out about two minutes back and was just watching his facial expression anyways. "We can get a house together," she nods, and he is sussing her out like she just made this way too easy and he should be very scared. Normally, he'd be right, but not this time. She doesn't know why she's saying yes, but it seems like the right thing to say and even though everything he's been saying for the last five minutes is utter bullshit, he unknowingly has make some good points. And yeah, maybe she just really fucking likes the idea of knowing he'll be there in the morning for her whisper naughty things to, but that's beside the point, really.
"Cool," he smiles, and she swears, it's like looking at a fucking five year old who just found out that he didn't get a lump of coal for Christmas, even if his mother's been promising him that is what he's gonna get for the last month. "You can even design it for us," he grins.
"Isn't that emasculating for you?" she asks, arching an eyebrow.
"I'm pretty sure I lost my man card when you told me I was no longer allowed to dress myself," he points out, shaking his head. "Besides, you can design the house, but I'll build it." Even if he took acting for four years at NYU, he somehow ended up building houses. So maybe the bar meet up wasn't that much of a coincidence because they unknowingly worked for the same company, but she worked in the offices while he worked on the actual ground, making her plans come to life.
"Because that sweater was fucking awful," she informs him, rolling her eyes. But it's true. She wears the pants in this whole rela - thing. In this whole thing. "What do you want it to look like?" she asks, tilting her head to the side as she sits up, straddling his hips as he looks down at her.
He closes his eyes, like he's really thinking about it, so she does it too. Sometimes, when she's designing a house or building, she pictures it in her mind. Especially houses. Normally, she's not the kind of person who gives a shit about anyone other than herself, but this is her job, and she likes being good at her job, so when she designs a house for someone else, she often pictures them and designs based on what she sees them doing in the house.
"I want a fence that borders a big lawn, more in the front than in the back. Like my house in Lima. I didn't have much of a back yard but my front yard was really big. I used to be able to do everything there. Slip n' slides, kiddie pools, the works. I even had a lemonade stand one time until a cop came by and told me I could get arrested for opening a business in the city without a license…" he rambles.
She doesn't comment on how cliché she thinks it is that he wants a fence around the whole house and the fact that he probably wants it to be white. Instead, she reminds herself that they are living there together and since the fence is one of the last things that will get put up in this house, she has plenty of time to change his mind. "I want it to be a split level with a garage. It's going to be brick, in a light color, and I want a porch in the front of the house with a table and two lounge chairs."
"Hmm sounds nice," he replies. "We'll need a big room for us, with a bathroom. Like one of those nice ones where there's a bathtub separate from the shower. And everything's in granite."
"Someone has expensive taste," she chuckles, biting down on her lip. "We'll need another room, too, so if we have guests, they don't have to sleep on the couch. But maybe on a separate floor."
"Definitely on a separate floor," he nods, and when she opens her eyes, he's got the cheekiest grin on her face and she can't help but roll her eyes. She smacks him and he curses under his breath. "We'll need an office, too, with a window, so you have some place to design more houses and buildings and stuff. And I guess we'll need a kitchen and laundry room and all that kind of stuff. And in the basement we can have a mini-bar and like a pool table and stuff."
She likes the sound of that. It's not going to be a big house, but she doesn't need a big house. In New York, it's not like they can afford one anyways. But it's going to be their house, and that's what matters most to her. "Sounds perfect," she grins, biting down on her lip.
"Just like you," he sighs, and he looks up at her with the widest and most loving eyes she has ever seen.
"You're really cute when you're trying to get laid," she informs him.
"Well, I figure that if we're going to be counting down our time here now, we have limited opportunities to give the neighbors a free show," he smirks, licking his lips as his thumbs stroke her thighs.
"I like the way you think," she whispers, leaning down to kiss him. She thinks that maybe, for once, everything might work out for her.